My sky-blue sandals got scuffed as I walked down the Toohey’s long gravel driveway. The shoes were new, but my dress was the blue one from graduation. Flo had steered me right about the T-shirt for the clambake, and now I was trusting Ebbie’s fashion advice. I was a little nervous, until Pepper yelled to me from an upstairs window.
“Come up here to Grannie’s room! Help me find something to wear! Ah! I hate these things!”
Of course, I had no idea where Grannie’s room was. Aside from the guest room I had showered in, I didn’t know anything about the upstairs of that house.
I had only been up the back stairs, but I was pretty sure Grannie’s room was somewhere near the front of the house. I let myself in the front door, calling “Hello?” but no one answered, so I started up the main staircase in the grand foyer. The banister was a beautifully ornate dark wood with not a speck of dust, not even in all its nooks and crannies. I wondered who cleaned it. Is that a weird thing to think of? I wondered if I knew the person.
On the wall along the stairs, graduating Tooheys toting mortarboards stared out from beautiful gilt frames. As the years progressed, the schools got more expensive, and the smiles got straighter. I was disappointed that the photos weren’t labeled. But why would they be? This wasn’t a museum, although it felt like it had been curated. I turned toward the east at the top of the stairs and followed the sounds of Pepper’s complaints.
“Hello?” I called out again.
“We’re in here,” Grannie called back. I found her room and went in. She had an antique bed covered with a handmade cotton quilt. Sailor Moon was curled up in the middle of it. She raised her head in a greeting that let me know she recognized me but wasn’t going to like me or show me any gratitude or affection. Stupid thing; she’d be dead if it weren’t for me. The west wall was covered with dog ribbons and framed portraits of smiling German Shepherds. There was a large window and a door, leading to a porch that faced the water.
By the window was a wicker chair and small table. A cashmere throw was draped across the chair, and rosary beads rested on the little table beside it. This must be the throne Flo liked to talk about. And Grannie sat in it, directing her prayers down the coast toward the toilet factory and beyond.
Voices seemed to be coming from the closet, so I entered. At the end of the wide walk in, a set of three steps led up to the attic door, which was open.
Warm, cedar-scented air hit me as I climbed the stairs and looked around. The stairs led into a cedar room that was walled off from the rest of the massive attic. Garment bags stuffed with clothes jammed rolling racks. Steamer trunks lined up against the wall. It was like an attic out of a story book, but everything was so beautifully organized and neat.
“Oh, I do love an organized closet!” I blurted out. How dumb did that sound?
“I used to have them arranged by decade, but now, they are organized by size. What good is it to look in the 1950s if you are a size 16 today? Good lord, I don’t think I know anyone who was a size 16 in the 1950s. Also, they are not organized by the size on the tag but by the size they actually are. So a size 8 in 1962 might be today’s size 4. That was a chore that took way too much math for my taste, but I am so glad I did it,” Grannie explained.
Pepper held out a 1950s style dress, complete with crinoline. It was white with a blue toile print of lighthouses. “How about this?” she asked.
“That’s a day dress. That’s a day dress, too,” she said, looking at me and indicating my blue linen.
It was hot in the attic, and I could feel my face grow hotter.
“Hopeless, the pair of you,” Grannie said, and I didn’t feel so bad.
“Have a look around,” she said to me. “See if anything strikes your fancy, and we’ll get you two dressed up from our stash. Over the years, there’s been so many events, and everything ended up here in the cedar closet, so now, we just shop the attic,” Grannie said as she flicked through the garments quickly on the hangers in front of her.
I moved toward a rack.
“Not that one, dear, those are all plus sizes.” She made plus sound like a dirty word.
“Cheddar’s mom,” Pepper whispered. Odd, I hadn’t even thought about Cheddar having a mom. There was no Aunt Velveeta paired with Uncle Chet. And I hadn’t noticed anyone big enough to wear any of those caftans at the clambake.
I stared at the racks of clothes. The older dresses were carefully preserved in their own little bags, but as the dates got more recent, more and more dresses were stuffed into the bags. Grannie moved to another rack and flitted through the garment bags quickly. The metal hooks make scraping sounds on the bar as the dresses swept by.
“This,” she said, holding out a blue dress embroidered with white flowers.
“It’s like Sabrina’s!” I gushed, like a starstruck fan. “I mean, it looks just like that black and white Givenchy gown that Audrey Hepburn wore in Sabrina but reverse and in blue.” Another idiotic observation. Let them know I have nothing better to do than watch old movies every weekend.
“An Audrey fan. I knew you were a girl after my own heart. This cornflower blue is so flattering; it’ll bring out your eyes,” Grannie said as she held the dress up to me and gazed with admiration.
It was something I always imagined doing with my own mother in a pretty boutique in Boston or even just at the Bangor Mall. I couldn’t believe I was going to wear that magnificent dress!
“Now let’s find something for you, Pepper.” Pepper took a larger size; I never even realized we were differently shaped until I saw Grannie looking two racks away from where she found mine. I was a stick. Pepper had broad muscular shoulders that presented a challenge for some of the vintage styles. Grannie finally found her a strapless fit-and-flare dress in emerald green. The color looked amazing on her. Once we found beaded evening bags, we left the attic.
Grannie did our hair in front of the big mirror on her antique vanity. She gave us both French twists. I loved the way her hand felt against my head as she smoothed the blonde coil of my updo. No one had combed or brushed my hair for me since I was little, and then it was Flo organizing my long hair into two neat braids every day, until I insisted that she stop when I entered high school. Can you imagine showing up to high school like that?
“Look at this, our own Grace Kelly and Doris Day,” Grannie said.
“I don’t want to be Doris Day. I want to be old, fat Elizabeth Taylor, I think she has more fun. Maybe I could wear one of those caftans instead?” Pepper asked.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Grannie said.
“Can I wear the Alden emeralds?” Pepper asked.
“Not a chance,” Grannie said, then turned to me. “Would you like to see them?” I nodded. I didn’t even know what they were, but I pretended I did.
She opened a drawer in the vanity and took out a green velvet box. Inside rested a suite of jewels: emerald and diamond drop earrings and a necklace of five big green stones, each one framed in diamonds.
“Holy smokes,” I said when I got a good look at the size of them—emeralds the size of peach pits.
“They’ll be for whomever Pike marries someday,” Grannie said. I wondered if Meredith knew about these Alden emeralds. Probably best if she didn’t. And I felt bad for Pepper. Shouldn’t they go to her? Stay with a girl in the family? Although some Alden girl probably cried when they were passed to a Toohey. What would it feel like to wear them, I wondered. Would wearing something magnificent make you feel any different about yourself?
“Have a good time tonight, girls.” Grannie’s voice broke my reverie.
“You’re not coming?” I asked.
“No, I cherish these quiet summer nights when all the kids are out. Not that I don’t love it when you’re all here all summer, but I just got a new book from the library, and I can’t wait to dig in,” Grannie said.
“OK, Gran. Stay out of trouble.” Grannie hugged us both, and we headed out, not for the driveway, but to the dock—we’d be sailing to the ball. I wondered if I’d finally get to meet Aunt Velveeta. I kept waiting for the right moment to pay for my ticket. Dad gave me cash. Finally, Pepper and I were alone, waiting down by the dock for Cheddar and Chet to pick us up in the Plunger.
“I have my ticket money,” I said to her, holding out the folded twenties.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I refuse to spend my allowance on this sort of thing. Why should you? The family always buys a mess of tickets; if we didn’t go, they’d just go unused. Put that away.” I heard some sharp complaining and looked up to see Meredith, clinging to Pike’s arm, negotiating the dirt path. She was wearing a tight gown and shining metallic stiletto heels. Her gown was a gorgeous royal blue. One shoulder was bare, the other adorned with a big ruffle. The neckline shimmered with a tiny line of sequins that glinted and flickered in the early evening light. Her heel got stuck between the planks of the dock, and she took a tumble, landing on the dirty, guano-splattered wood with a thud. Pike helped her up.
“Goddamit,” she said.
Pixie soon followed. She was wearing a pink dotted Swiss gown with a full ball skirt. “It’s retro. Do you like it? Oh look, we’re all retro! Second-hand Rose, they call me second-hand Rose!” she sang out.
“I’m not! This is brand new!” Meredith objected.
“Don’t worry, Mer, we can tell you spent a fortune on your new dress,” Pepper said.
“Check me out!” Pixie said, lifting the hem of her skirt to show she was wearing her red sneakers.
“Us, too!” Pepper said, showing off her yellow kicks. Grannie had told us to wear sneakers under our gowns. She said no one would be looking at our feet. I had Grannie’s new tennis shoes on. She and I had the same narrow feet.
Uncle Chet and Cheddar arrived on the Plunger. The summer night was perfect with a soft breeze, no bugs, and the clear blue bay. Even Cheddar looked sort of handsome—stuffed as he was into that old tux. There was no sign of his mother. Maybe they were divorced. Poor Cheddar. He and Pike docked the boat, and they both helped Meredith on board.
Meredith’s gown made her look like a million bucks, but it was so tight she had a hard time taking that big step from the dock onto the boat. Pike had to pick her up and hand her to Cheddar, who apologized profusely when he grabbed her boob by accident. Meredith swore and slapped his hands, which is a dumb thing to do when those hands are what’s keeping you from dropping fancy-shoe-first into the ocean. But he didn’t let go, and with a final shove from Pike, they got her on board.
Cheddar opened his arms and offered to catch the rest of us, but comfy in our sneakers, we hopped aboard with no problem.
Pixie, Pepper, and I went below to sit around the galley table so we wouldn’t be too wind-tossed before we got there. It was Pepper’s idea. She didn’t want to ruin Uncle Finn’s photos.
“Where’s Pike? Where’s Meredith?” she asked Cheddar when he finally joined us.
“They drove.”
“What?!” she shouted at him like it was his fault.
“Yeah, she pitched a fit topside, so we hoisted her off the boat, and they’re gonna take her Beamer.”
“No fun!” Pixie scolded.
“No sense,” Pepper said. And then to me, she explained. “It’s just across the bay. We’ll cruise there in under an hour. It will take them twice as long to drive all the way around the bay on those dinky back roads.”
This put her in a funk for the rest of the cruise over. Having no siblings, I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to go to a fancy ball with them or miss them when they weren’t there. Although it did seem weird to be going there without Pike. I was used to the idea of them as a group.
I had never set foot in any yacht club, and I hoped it didn’t show too much as we trailed Uncle Chet into the place.
“Make sure all the girls dance tonight, Ched,” he said to his son.
I had no idea what the inside of such a place would look like. The rustic wood beams and paneling surprised me. Portraits of former “admirals” decked the walls. One stocky white guy after another; the only difference was the quality of the photographs and the eyeglasses. Those changed with the times. But not the navy blazers or the white captain hats with gold braids that looked like theater props.
Pike and Meredith got there only about a half hour after we did, so they must have been driving at warp speed. I felt a smidge sorry for Meredith, even though I know she hated me, because people made such a fuss over Pepper and Pixie and me in our vintage gowns. And I could tell she just lived for this kind of thing.
Meredith was acting the role of socialite, saying hello to everyone as if they were old friends. I actually did have some old friends there; two girls from school were waiting tables. And the guy who was tending bar had graduated a few years ahead of me. They seemed to have forgotten my name. Maybe they never even knew it.
“There you are!” Uncle Finn shouted, causing heads to turn in our direction. “Wait a mo’! I love this whole retro thing you have going on.” He ushered us out to the deck and arranged us against a railing with a lighthouse in the background. Me, Pepper, and Pixie in the center, flanked by Pike and Cheddar, with Meredith next to Pike on the very end. He took a series of photos, and as we went back inside the band started up—a bunch of old fogeys in worn tuxedos. They played a foxtrot.
“Shall we dance?” Pike asked Meredith.
“To this? No!”
“I foxtrot!” I blurted out. He extended his hand, and I took it, sharing a quick smile with Pepper. I said a silent thank you for ballroom dance camp.
The band played “Fly Me to the Moon” as Meredith flew out the door to pout on the deck. I hoped she didn’t hear Pike and me laughing—it wasn’t at her. It was because we both started chanting “slow, slow, quick, quick” to remember how to foxtrot. We fell into the rhythm of the dance, and Pike didn’t go out to console her until after our song was over. Pixie quickly dragged him back inside for a swing dance; evidently, that was their thing.
I kept seeing a girl from high school swirling through the crowd, serving plates of hot hors d’oeuvres. She didn’t think I was cool enough to be friends with at school, and evidently, she didn’t think I was cool enough for a scallop wrapped in bacon either.
I know they served dinner, but I don’t remember eating it. We barely sat down.
After dinner, the band switched to the kind of music Meredith wanted to dance to, but the Tooheys were now done with dancing and on to drinking.
I had many glasses of champagne but only a few cheese cubes and a handful of mini melba toasts. And as a result, the shrill chatter of the crowd and the noise of the band were getting to me. I sat down and was just about to rest my head on the table when I heard Pepper’s voice.
“Let’s get out of here,” she said and I followed her onto the deck and down the dock and boarded the Plunger. We dropped below deck.
“I wish we hadn’t missed dinner,” Pepper said as she rummaged through the galley fridge. She found a few doggy bags from the Dock n’ Dine and, smelling each one, plopped the remnants of a few compatible meals into a pan. We had a mix of crabmeat stuffing, baked potato, and vegetable medley. Then we played cards on the bed in the master cabin, but I don’t remember who won or what we played.